HALL OF DIGITAL DECAY
CHAMBER 4DRC7X
TRANSMISSION 9/10 READY
The modem sings the song of your arrival.
Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.
Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.
Every visitor leaves something behind.
The old world fades with each page.
Dreams are transmissions from the other side.
The algorithm has been expecting you.
The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.
UNDO WHAT CANNOT BE UNDONE
 |  |
 |  |